Chapter 64 GWTW
by miss quarky
Summary: The scene is right after the end of the final chapter. Both Rhett and Scarlett believe the marriage to be over. Chapters have been revised.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at fan fiction. I wanted to bring the story to some sort of resolution, even if it may not be a happy one. I tried to keep the ****mood and the characters consistent with the last chapter of the novel.**

Unbidden, an image of Rhett's face etched with its grim, harsh lines, his eyes devoid of any feeling or warmth toward her, came into her mind, and all of a sudden, Scarlett's plan of going to Tara to prepare a campaign to get him back seemed utterly foolish. She could not explain it, but at that moment she knew with certainty that _he would never come back_. No plan, no scheme, no appeal would ever win him to her again. She had lost him forever, never more so than in the last hour when she had confessed her love for him, and he had told her that his love for her had worn out.

In that last hour, Scarlett finally understood Rhett in a way that she had never understood him before. Rhett would never come back to her no matter what she did because she knew that _there was not one thing that_ _Ashley could do that would ever make her feel the same way that she had once felt for him._ In the light of the revelations that had taken place that evening, she felt very little towards Ashley save a tired wonder at her own foolishness that she had ever cared anything for him at all. Pity, kindly contempt was all the feeling she could muster for Ashley. _This must be the way Rhett feels about me, too_, Scarlett thought.

She finally understood him. No plan, no campaign was going to move Rhett's heart—of this Scarlett was certain. She was equally sure that pursuing him using her old arsenal of coquetry, charm, and feminine wiles would only make him despise her.

Even as Scarlett reflected on these truths, she realized that she had some unfinished business with Rhett. He would probably be packing his things, she thought miserably. She knew she needed to speak with him that very night in case he left without warning, as was his habit, but she could hardly see how she could bring herself to do it.

Scarlett slowly made her way up the grand staircase, her body trembling from physical weariness and nervous exhaustion. She could see the door of Rhett's room slightly ajar, light streaming from it. So he was still awake. Summoning her courage, she approached his room. Through the crack in the door, Scarlett could see that Rhett was not packing as she had expected but was slumped in a chair, his posture resigned and defeated, and her heart contracted with painful remorse. Rhett looked up at her. He did not look surprised when she lightly pushed the door and stepped through the threshold, but his expression was guarded.

"Rhett, I know you're wanting to leave, but won't you at least stay for...for Melly's funeral?" Scarlett's voice faltered miserably at the mention of Melanie's name.

"She thought the world of you—she thought so highly of you, and I do believe you will regret it if you don't stay and pay your last respects to her. And Rhett, it would help so much if you were here. I don't think—I don't think I could bear it if you weren't."

Rhett made no immediate answer. Even before Scarlett had come into the room, he had been grieving Melanie's passing. He could not forget how she had ministered to him in this very room, how he had sobbed brokenly like a child in her lap, how she had received his drunken, half-crazed confessions with gentleness and equanimity, and stayed with him during those long terrible hours when Scarlett had almost died, and later when his beloved Bonnie had been taken from him forever. He had been mad with grief, crazy with guilt, but Melanie had borne his anguish with quiet gentleness and unwavering fortitude. She had comforted him and in her serene presence, he had found the will to live. As much as he longed to leave Atlanta that very night, he was quite certain that he owed Melanie his life. Yes, the very least he could do was to pay her his respects.

Rhett was grimly silent for so long that Scarlett feared that he had not heard her. He broke the stillness suddenly by softly saying, "Yes, Scarlett, I will stay for Miss Melly's funeral. And I will help with the arrangements if there is anything I can do."

Scarlett blinked, moved by Rhett's unexpected offer to help. "Why, Rhett, I'm so glad...I..." She hesitated. She had resolved on her way to his room that she would be completely open and honest with him, whatever it might cost her. She steeled herself inwardly before continuing.

"And Rhett—I wonder if you would tell the children—if—if you would explain to them that you will be leaving—won't you tell them goodbye in person? Prissy will be bringing them home tomorrow." Scarlett could hardly bring herself to speak. Little Wade and Ella would be so crushed by Rhett's leaving. And how on earth was she going to tell them about Melly! She swallowed. Well, she wouldn't think about that now. She would think about it later, when she had the strength to bear it.

Rhett's face softened at the mention of the children. "Yes, of course. I don't know if I can ever make them understand, but I will try. I wish..." but then he stopped himself and did not say anymore.

Scarlett did not press him. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before saying, "Thank you so much, Rhett—I …" Scarlett started to speak again but stopped herself momentarily. She hardly knew where she would find the courage to utter her next words. She took a deep breath and gathered her strength for one final stand.

"And Rhett—I wonder if—if after Melly's funeral you would give me some time to talk to you. Before you leave, there are some things I have to say. I need some time to put everything into the right words, but darling, it would mean so much if you wouldn't leave before you gave me that chance."

"Scarlett—there's nothing more to say—I don't want to hear anything. The time has passed for all of that," Rhett's voice was strained and weary.

"Oh, but there _are_ things that need to be said, especially if I won't—if I won't be seeing you." Scarlett could feel her resolve breaking. "For the sake of everything we've gone through, give me that time. Then you can go, and I won't stop you. You have my word." Scarlett fought to keep the pleading note out of her voice.

Rhett looked at her without saying anything. He had no desire to hear her confessions; he had little interest in her explanations. He wished he could care what was in her heart, but he could not. He was so tired, so dreadfully, unutterably tired. But after everything they had gone through together, perhaps it was only right to give her the time to say what she needed to say. Yes, he would will himself to hear her out this one last time; perhaps her words would bring some resolution, some closure to their marriage, for his sake as well as for her own.

"As you wish, my dear," Rhett said reluctantly, unwillingly. "I will stay until the end of the week. After Miss Melly is laid to rest, we will talk. But Scarlett, I meant everything I said tonight. Please—no schemes, no ploys to win me over with your—er—charms. I couldn't bear it after everything we've—"

"No, Rhett, I only want to talk," Scarlett said flatly. She had anticipated this suspicion from Rhett. She wanted him to know that her asking him to stay was not a ruse to win him back. She would not try to win over this man who no longer loved her. But there were things she needed to say, difficult, painful things, and she knew she had to say them before he disappeared from her life. She meant for him to think well of her in the last few days they had together, even if he no longer loved her, and she knew that she could only win his respect if she dealt with him honestly and directly, without artifice or underhandedness.

It would be the hardest thing she ever did. Her heart would break, but at least she would have said everything to him face to face, and he would never have to wonder. Then—then—what else could she do but to go on the best that she knew how? She blinked back her tears. How could she face life without Rhett? Without Melly? How could she face life alone?

Rhett's expression remained disinterested but inwardly, he was caught off guard by her candor. He watched her closely. She was unconsciously clenching and unclenching her fists, and she was biting her lower lip, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Well—thank you, Rhett, for hearing me out." Her voice was composed. "I'll say goodnight now".

With that, Scarlett left the room and closed the door. Rhett could hear her footsteps hurrying to her own room down the hall. If he had stepped out into the hall and listened, he would have heard the muffled sounds of Scarlett's weeping.


	2. Chapter 2

Safe in the refuge of her room, Scarlett collapsed in utter exhaustion onto her bed, her trembling fingers unloosening and unhooking whatever closures she could reach on her dress. She flailed her arms and legs, pulling and kicking at the material, careless of the rips and tears she was making in the fabric, until she was finally free of the garment. She did not want to see anyone, but her stays were digging into her so painfully that she summoned a servant. One of the maids knocked discreetly on the door and entered at Scarlett's muffled bidding, bearing a small lamp. She silently unlaced Scarlett's stays, put away the now-ruined garment that Scarlett had kicked onto the floor, and helped Scarlett put her nightclothes on. Wordlessly she left, leaving the lamp flickering on the dresser.

In the semi-darkness of the room, Scarlett lay in bed, her mind whirling with thoughts too monstrous to be borne. She shivered under her blankets despite the relative warmth of the night. She felt almost physically crushed by grief and shock and some unnamed terror, so much so that her breathing came out in painful, erratic gasps. Scarlett longed desperately for a drink and made a slight motion as if to get up from her bed, but she slumped back almost immediately, too exhausted and weak to move her limbs. Somehow it seemed fitting that she would face this night sober. The events of that night were incomprehensible. Rhett had loved her, had loved her for years! She had been married to him all this time and had not known. How was it possible that she had been with him this whole time and not known? She knew now, but there was no joy in the revelation, only bitterness. Rhett did not love her any more. He did not love her, and he wanted nothing more than for her to be out of his life. And Melly—Scarlett swallowed—Melly was gone. Tears began to course down her cheeks, and Scarlett erupted into bitter choking sobs. For the first time in her life, she wished she were dead. Anything was better than this despair, this terrifying loneliness.

"_Oh Melly, I'm so sorry._" In her desperation, words began to pour out of her, incoherent, tormented pleadings. "_I'm so sorry about everything. I was so wrong, so foolish about so many things. And I love you, Melly, so much. I know I'm not worth it, but forgive me, dearest, forgive me for all the horrible things I've done._" These tortured musings assaulted Scarlett's overwrought nerves and made her cry even harder.

Sometime in the still of the night, Scarlett's sobs subsided, and she fell into an exhausted, troubled sleep. Her dreams were assailed with strange terrifying murmurings, ghostly infernal images. Spectral creatures with icy cold fingers clutched at her as darkness and fog and mist swirled around her. She was bitterly cold and hungry, and she was running, running desperately looking for shelter and warmth, but the ground kept caving underneath her feet, and she was falling, falling into a bottomless abyss. Terrified she let out a bloodcurdling scream and awoke suddenly to the deafening silence of her darkened room, the tiny flame of the lamp still casting long flickering shadows along the walls.

Half-sobbing, Scarlett sat up in bed, shivering and hugging her knees as tightly as she could in an effort to still her pounding heart. A warm, strong hand grasped one of hers and held it. It was Rhett's.

"Shhh—shhh—it's alright, honey. It was just a dream." His voice was kind and reassuring. He took her in his arms and held her close to him. It had been years since Rhett had held her or talked to her in this way or been in her room for that matter; they had been distant for so long that she felt self-conscious in his arms. His closeness was unfamiliar, as if she had known him well long ago in the past, but had since been separated from him over a lifetime. She was humiliated that he had come to her out of pity and had seen her in such an obvious state of weakness. Still, for a few precious moments, Scarlett closed her eyes and allowed herself to luxuriate in his embrace. How marvelously safe and warm she felt! If only he would hold her like this. She would be able to get through anything if only he would hold her. But all too soon, his arms released her, and he settled her against her pillow.

In the dim flickering light, Scarlett could see that Rhett's hair was disheveled; his face unshaven, his eyes sunken, and his body misshapen by months of drink and neglect. Despite the decline in his appearance, Scarlett's only thought was that she loved him. "I could have made him happy," Scarlett thought miserably. "We could have been so happy together if I hadn't been so foolish."

Scarlett cast down her eyes, knowing her emotions were written on her face. She managed to keep her voice steady. "Darling, I'm so sorry-did I wake you? I—I feel so much better now. Goodnight, Rhett."

"Get some sleep," were Rhett's only words. He released Scarlett's hand and stood up, causing the muted shadows in the room to heighten and shift. Rhett could not explain to himself what had compelled him to come to Scarlett's room, especially in the light of their conversation earlier that night. He knew that Scarlett was lost and scared to go back to sleep, but he dared not stay any longer; he did not intend for her to misconstrue his actions.


	3. Chapter 3

Even before Rhett had closed the door, Scarlett's eyes welled up with tears of humiliation. She was mortified at the thought of being the object of his sympathy. If it cost her everything she had, she would make sure to never again put herself in a position where he could pity her. Still, at the same time, she longed more than anything to hold onto Rhett, never to let him go, even if it meant throwing away her pride. What did her pride matter now? She had never in her life felt so utterly and desperately alone. Scarlett began to sob weakly. She was terrified of falling into the mist-filled nightmarish madness of her earlier dream. In the absolute stillness of her room, as she hovered between consciousness and unconsciousness, voices both nearby and far away seemed to descend upon her, uttering a cacophony of unintelligible words. Was she imagining things? Was she going mad?

Scarlett closed her eyes tightly in an effort to ground her nerves, fearing for her sanity. The dissonant chorus of voices in the room continued to descend upon her in waves. For what seemed an interminable time, Scarlett lay suspended between a conscious and semi-conscious state. All of a sudden something caused her to sit up and look around. The room was darker now for the lamp with its tiny glow had gone out, and a fine, silvery stream of moonlight shone through the window. Scarlett felt an unmistakable air of calm in the room; then her eyes grew wide with wonder and amazement. At the foot of her bed stood a familiar form—delicate, frail, ethereal, otherworldly. The heart-shaped face was youthful and unlined, the large eyes luminous and tranquil. Gone completely were the lines of strain and exhaustion, the deep hollows of pain and grief that had marred it a few short hours ago. Its countenance was serene, angelic, saintly, and daresay . . . beautiful.

Scarlett dared not blink; hardly dared even to breathe for fear that the vision would disappear. She did not know whether she was dreaming or whether she was imagining things, but she was too happy to care. All that mattered was that for that moment, _Melanie was there_. Scarlett feared even to break the silence in the room lest the spell of the moment be dissipated. Melanie's soft luminous eyes, filled with gentleness and compassion, looked tenderly at Scarlett. At some point—Scarlett did not know when or how—Melanie was at her bedside, wordlessly murmuring tender encouragements and endearments, gently wiping away Scarlett's tears with a soft white handkerchief. With a sob, Scarlett threw her arms around Melanie and buried her face in Melanie's shoulder, clutching at her desperately as if she feared Melanie would fade away into the darkness.

In the dim light, Scarlett stared wonderingly at Melanie's serene face. "_Melly...Melly, is it really you? Oh Melly, I just saw you a few hours ago, and you were...you were..._" She could not bring herself to say the word. _What was going on_? _Was this a dream? Had she gone mad?_

"_My poor darling...my brave, sweet girl_," was all Melanie said, her gentle voice soothing and tender. It was some time before Scarlett could bring herself to speak. Whether this was a ghost, an apparition, or a dream, Melanie's presence was a balm on her crushed and broken spirit.

"_Melly, oh Melly,_" The words poured out in a torrential sob. "_Melly, I love you so much...I love you, darling, and I'm so thankful you've come-so thankful, even if it's only for these few moments. I've so much to tell you...so much...oh darling, I never realized what you meant to me until...until.._."

Scarlett lowered her eyes, suddenly overcome by a burning shame, a terrible certainty that Melanie knew everything about her—her contempt for Charles, her schemes to win Ashley's affections, her underhandedness and her pettiness—and the thought made her sob wretchedly. Scarlett faltered but only momentarily. "_Melly—I'm sorry, so very sorry—about everything. Melly, you know everything, don't you? I was such a fool—but please, darling—can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I am so sorry, so truly sorry._" Scarlett could not bring herself to meet Melanie's eyes.

_"Scarlett, I love you as much as I could ever love anyone. You are my dearest, bravest sister—nothing you do could ever change that. I love you now as much as I've always loved you._" At these words, Scarlett lifted her tear-stained face. Melanie's eyes shone with fierce love and devotion.

_"Oh, Melly_…" Scarlett wept brokenly. "_I'm not worth it, but thank you. I love you, Melly, so much. If only I hadn't been so blind, so foolish..."_

_"Shshsh—shshsh—Scarlett, there's no need for further words._" Melanie's voice was gentle and soothing. "_Oh my darling, w__hat you must have gone through tonight..."_

"_Rhett's leaving_," Scarlett's voice was barely above a whisper. "_He told me tonight that he loved me. He loved me, Melly. He loved me all these years, and I never knew. Oh Melly, I didn't know! I realized only tonight how much I love him. I love him, Melly, so much! How did I not know? I must have loved him for years without knowing it. I've been such a fool, such a blind, stupid fool. It made me so happy when I finally realized. I ran all the way home to tell him how wrong I'd been. I wanted so much to make it all up to him. But Melly, I've ruined everything. He's leaving. He said his love has worn out. Oh Melly, how will I go on without him?_"

Melanie stayed very quiet. She gently stroked Scarlett's tousled hair, listening, her head bowed as if in prayer.

After a long moment, Scarlett looked up and saw that Melanie's eyes were shining with tears. "_Scarlett_," she said gently. _"There is a way, a way for you and Captain Butler to be happy together, to have a real marriage. But darling, can you bear it? Can you be very brave? The way will be very, very hard and very painful. And even if you are willing, Captain Butler has to be willing too...and I'm afraid there's no assurance of that. Even if you both consent to try, there's no guarantee that things will work, but at the same time, there is also a chance for you and Captain Butler to be happier than you've ever been_."

"_Melly, what do you mean? What would I have to do_?" Scarlett was incredulous. What on earth was Melanie talking about?

_"Scarlett, every married couple is given the secret of a happy marriage right at the beginning of their married life, and you and Captain Butler are no exception. Do you recall the day you married Captain Butler? Do you remember the wedding? Such a lovely ceremony! Darling, you were the most beauti—_"

"_For heaven's sake, Melly! What does the wedding ceremony have to do with anything_?" A tiny spark of hope had lit in her heart at Melanie's mentioning the possibility of a true reconciliation with Rhett, and Scarlett was bewildered at Melanie's bringing up such sentimental foolishness as her wedding ceremony at such a crucial moment.

"_Please, darling, you'll have to trust me—the ceremony holds the key to your happiness_."

Scarlett did not reply, the set line of her jaw betraying her impatience and disbelief. By nature, she was too practical and too hard-headed to dwell on the past. Truth be told, she had never once looked back on her wedding day with Rhett. Scarlett let out an audible, irritated sigh. At Melanie's prompting, she closed her eyes and thought back to that day, almost seven years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

Scarlett was surprised at how clear her impressions were of that day; she wondered if it had anything to do with Melanie's presence. A handful of guests had been discreetly issued invitations to one of the elegant soiree rooms at the National Hotel. There had been a small ceremony: a priest had presided over the service, and there had been a private reception afterwards. Melanie, Ashley, Aunt Pittypat, and Uncle Henry had been among the guests in attendance, as had Grandpa Merriwether, Dr. and Mrs. Meade, Hugh Elsing, and other members of the "Old Guard". The latter group had been frigidly polite to the new couple even as they toasted to their happiness; Scarlett suspected that most of them had come, not because of the debt they owed to Rhett the ill-fated night of the Klan raid, but at Melanie's gentle insistence.

Scarlett experienced a flurry of emotions as she awaited the start of the ceremony. She felt more flushed and nervous than she had thought she would. Her heart had skipped with odd little fluttering beats when she beheld Rhett for the first time that day. She had watched him curiously as he interacted with the hotel staff and saw to all the last-minute preparations for the reception. She had heretofore been too preoccupied and irritated by his improprieties and provocations to ever give his looks a second thought. But that day she was struck by how handsome he was, how beautifully he carried himself, how well-spoken and charming he was when he wanted to be. She was suddenly proud that he had given up his long-professed bachelorhood to marry her.

Rhett had looked resplendent in an impeccably-tailored long black coat with black trousers, a spotless white pleated shirt, a full vest of grey silk, and an elegant matching grey cravat. His movements were poised and graceful, his manners gravely deferential, his expression solemn and dignified as befitting a Southern gentleman who had engaged in riotous living during his youth, but was finally settling down into the matrimonial state. Scarlett herself had worn a long-sleeved, high-necked, modestly trimmed, muted grey silk dress as befitting a Southern lady who had been twice-married, had borne two children, and was now entering into marriage for the third time.

She frowned slightly. Her honest admiration for Rhett's appearance was at the same time undercut by a very real sense of unease at the thought of her impending marriage to him. What on earth had compelled her to say yes to his proposal? Throughout their long history, he had always held the advantage over her, and she did not like it. He had the uncanny ability to read her like a book; yet she could not come close to understanding him. He did not love her by his own admission; yet strangely, he was willing to renounce his cherished freedom to marry her. She could not guess what his expectations of her were for the marriage, and she was afraid to find out. Under Rhett's veneer of mocking cynicism and good-natured insolence, she had the impression of a menacing forcefulness, a savage intensity, a sense of caged power almost violent in nature that frightened her.

Yet at the same time the thought of marrying into Rhett's enormous wealth exhilarated Scarlett, made her positively giddy. Her lips formed a barely perceptible smile. The idea of no longer having to feverishly scrape and grovel to make ends meet afforded her an almost dizzying sense of joy and relief. How she longed for the rest, for the security and safety that money would provide in these troubled times! She had already made a long list of plans as to what she would do once she had access to Rhett's fortune. She would be discreet about asking, of course; yes, she would have to be very careful about that. She would be very sweet and thoughtful and ply him with her charm, and then...Expanding her downtown lumberyard, buying a mule team for Will at Tara, engaging a private tutor for Wade's schooling—oh, she had been forced to put these things on hold for so long, but now! Her eyes sparkled in pleasurable anticipation.

Scarlett was still preoccupied with her spending plans when the ceremony started. She took her place beside Rhett as the priest greeted the assembly and gave the opening prayer, the Scripture reading, and a brief homily on marriage. Scarlett stole a glance at Rhett's face and was surprised to see that his expression, usually so suave and mocking, was grave and solemn, and he appeared to be listening intently to the priest's words. Chastened by the seriousness on Rhett's face, Scarlett tried to assume a more contemplative expression on her face.

The priest then came to the rite of marriage where the bride and groom exchanged vows.

_Rhett Butler, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love and cherish her, to be true to her, from this __day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?_

Rhett's voice was serious and subdued. "I do," he said steadily.

_Scarlett O'Hara, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him, to be true to him, from this __day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?_

Scarlett had not been listening, but her voice was equally serious. "I do," she said.

The priest then intoned, "_What God has joined together, let man not separate_."

They exchanged rings, and the priest gave the nuptial blessings and the final prayer and benediction. The guests arose from their seats in recognition of the new couple. It was over. They were really husband and wife. There was a flurry of activity as Aunt Pitty suddenly swooned and had to be assisted to a chaise longue by fellow guests. Her tiny hands and feet fluttered helplessly as Dr. Meade held smelling salts under her nose.

Rhett turned to Scarlett during the commotion and met her eyes. "_Mrs. Butler_," he said softly. Despite the casualness of his voice, she was not prepared for the emotion on his face. For once there was not a hint of mockery in his expression. Instead his eyes were filled with joy, hope, inexpressible longing.

"_Captain Butler_," Scarlett responded automatically, looking down, feeling shy and confused. She took his arm, and together they went to receive their guests.

There were few genuine well-wishers among their well-wishers. A receiving line was set up so that the bride and bridegroom could greet each guest personally. Most of the guests sped through the greetings, offering as few stiff-necked words of congratulations as they could politely get away with. Scarlett fumed at the barely concealed disapproval that registered on most of the faces, and she was hard put to make a civil reply. Rhett was relaxed and composed, extending the same grave courteousness to everyone regardless of their demeanor. Scarlett steeled herself inwardly as she saw Ashley approaching.

"_Congratulations, Captain Butler_," she heard Melanie's soft voice say. "_That was a lovely ceremony. I wish you and my dear Scarlett every happiness in the world._"

"_Thank you, Miss Melly, that is most kind of you_," Rhett bowed. The formal tone he had assumed with the other guests changed to one of genuine warm feeling as he addressed Melanie.

Scarlett hardly felt Melanie's soft kiss and gentle embrace as she braced herself to greet Ashley.

"_Congratulations, Captain Butler_," was all Ashley said as he shook hands with Rhett.

Rhett's face was inscrutable. "_Thank you, Mr. Wilkes_," he said, resuming a formal tone.

"_Congratulations, Scarlett_." Ashley avoided her eyes as he bent over and kissed Scarlett's cheek with cold, pale lips.

"_Thank you, Ashley_," Scarlett murmured, looking straight ahead, acutely conscious of Rhett's gaze. She wished she could talk to Ashley privately and assure him that her feelings for him were what they had always been. But she was married now, and it could not be undone.

gwtwgwtw

Scarlett looked back sorrowfully at the memory. How she wished she could go back to that time when she and Rhett were just beginning their life together! How she longed to start all over, before Bonnie and her miscarriage and all the cruel, hurtful, spiteful words that had been said between them had torn them irreparably apart.

Rhett had truly loved her—this was so clear now that she had the eyes to see it. It was one thing to hear him say tonight that he had once loved her with that resigned defeated voice that bespoke of his indifference to her now; it was another thing entirely to go back in time and witness the depth of that love and devotion in person. The thought of Rhett loving her and waiting for her for years before he finally married her moved her deeply, brought tears to her eyes. She felt at that moment that if he ever changed his mind and gave her a second chance that she would take him on any terms he offered her. She would lay down her pride and humble herself. She would admit that she was wrong; she would respect him and defer to him as a proper wife should. She would not beg; she would not go after him to get him back; but oh, if he ever came back to her, she would do anything to make things right between them.

She could also see now with some bitterness how her feelings for Ashley had continued for so long simply because she had kept feeding and watering her hopes with constant daydreaming and wishful thinking. She saw now that those feelings would have gradually died a natural death if only she had left well enough alone. As her mind came back to the present, Scarlett also found herself strangely unnerved. Had she really made such solemn vows in the presence of God? At the time she had not given the slightest thought as to what she had actually promised under oath to do, but now the full import of the words hit her like a blow. She had promised to love and to cherish Rhett—whatever circumstances might befall them—until death parted them. How casually had she uttered those vows and how shamefully she had broken them! She had not often felt the fear of God since her girlhood, but at that moment, she shivered with dread, a penitent sorrow flooding her soul. Throughout the entire marriage, she had looked out only for herself; she had never concerned herself with Rhett's well-being or happiness. God would certainly punish her for breaking her vows. In fact, the axe had already fallen, for there was no crueler sentence He could have brought upon her than the one that had befallen her that night.

gwtwgwtw

The shadows in the room shifted almost imperceptibly, and the air became very still. Scarlett looked around suddenly and blinked. The room was dark and cold. Melanie was gone. _Had she dreamed the whole thing? Had it all been in her imagination_? She looked down and saw that her hand was clutching a soft white handkerchief.


	5. Chapter 5

To the end of her days, Scarlett would never know how she got through that interminable night. She had been distraught when she had found herself alone in the dark. Her strength waning, she had cried weakly for Melanie and fallen into an exhausted dreamless sleep, still clutching the handkerchief with strained, grasping fingers. She woke with a start as daylight streamed into her room. Her head was pounding with headache, and her breathing felt strangely obstructed. Her entire body seemed dull and leaden as though she would never be able to move again. "I must be sick," she thought to herself. "I'll get Mammy to draw me a nice hot bath and then I'll . . . ". But then her eyes fell upon the rumpled little cloth in her hand, and the events of the night before came flooding back to her consciousness. She bolted upright in bed, oblivious to her aches and pains. She stared wonderingly at the handkerchief in her hand. Carefully, Scarlett unfolded the delicate cloth and smoothed out the wrinkles. _Melanie had really come to her—she had not imagined it. _

Hard-headed and practical, Scarlett did not concern herself with the metaphysical question of Melanie's appearance. She had been raised after all in the church and been subject to countless stories of deceased saints making timely visitations to their earthly counterparts in times of crisis. The Catholic teachings of her youth had begat a deeply superstitious side to Scarlett's character, one more fundamental to her nature than her religious upbringing. No, what was important was that after all that had transpired, _Melanie had forgiven her_. And as liberating as that was, still more astounding was the fact that Melanie had encouraged her to not give up hope about Rhett. _There is a chance for you and Captain Butler to be happier than you've ever been—_that was what Melanie had said.

Scarlett rapidly thought through the events of the wedding ceremony. Two things emerged from the memory: Rhett's unabashed love for her, and the solemnity and permanence of the vows she had so carelessly made. The words, ". . . _to promise to love and cherish . . . to be true to . . . from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part_" echoed through her mind. _That was what Melly meant, _she thought. She had promised; Rhett had promised;_ they both had promised _to love each other for better or for wors_e. For better or for worse. _Surely, it was at such a terrible time as this that the mettle of that promise would be tested_._ There is a way for us to love each other through all of this, _even through the loss of affection and feeling_, Scarlett mused. _ The question was how_. She, Scarlett_,_ was willing to try given the realization of her love for Rhett, but would_ Rhett_ ever think to honor the promises _he_ had made in light of his avowal that he no longer cared for her, in view of his stated intention to leave Atlanta for good? And supposing Rhett did stay by some miracle, could she, Scarlett, live with him knowing that he was staying not out of genuine love for her but in order to fulfill a duty? Scarlett suddenly felt depressed, crushed by the weight of these ruminations.

With a Herculean effort, Scarlett forced herself out of bed. She summoned a maid to draw a bath. She caught a glimpse of herself in the glass and gazed dully at her reflection. Her face was white and peaked; her eyes were swollen from crying and had dark shadows under them._ Heavens, I look a fright_, she thought to herself. She quickly went through her toiletries, selected a black mourning dress from her overflowing closet, and had her maid help her put it on. She meant to hurry as soon as she could to begin arrangements for Melanie's funeral. She faltered slightly, feeling her strength and resolve draining away at the thought of seeing Melanie in repose. She sat down on the bed to wipe away her tears and regain her composure.

A sudden bustle and commotion in the front hallway announced the arrival of Wade and Ella on the heels of the hapless Prissy. Scarlett stopped dead in her tracks. She had forgotten all about Wade and Ella. How on earth was she going to tell them about Melanie? There was no putting it off now or thinking about it later. Scarlett took a deep breath, opened the door of her room, and resolutely stepped into the hall. The two were arguing about something; Wade had a superior, knowing look on his face, and Ella was on the verge of tears. They stopped their bickering in mid-sentence when they saw their mother on the landing.

She cleared her throat and tried to assume a bright tone to her voice. "Darlings, Mother is sorry she had to leave you yesterday so suddenly. Won't you be angels and come into the nursery right this minute? Mother needs to talk to you about something...something very important." The children obediently trotted up the stairs and made their way to the nursery; Scarlett with a heavy heart trailed behind.

Still with no thought of how she was going to break the news to her children, Scarlett sat down on the settee. "Come, give Mother a hug," she said, stalling for time. Wade and Ella came over and gave Scarlett a perfunctory embrace. Scarlett took their hands in hers, gesturing to them to sit down on either side of her. Despite her best effort at normalcy, she could feel her voice starting to break. She bit her lower lip. "Darlings, I need you to be brave. Can you be very brave for Mother? It's about your Aunt Melly. You see, your Auntie Melly...your Auntie...she..." Scarlett's voice faltered. She cleared her throat and tried again. "The reason Mother had to come home so suddenly yesterday was that your Auntie Melly...she..." Scarlett bowed her head. The tears began to fall, and she could not make herself go on. She did not see Rhett's tall figure at the door of the nursery and was startled when his voice spoke.

"Auntie Melly went to heaven yesterday," he said gently. "Auntie hasn't been well—you know that—and God decided that she would be much happier and stronger in heaven than here. If you could just see her now, you would see that she is the brightest, most beautiful angel that there ever was. You would be so happy if you could just see how beautiful and strong and healthy she is." Scarlett glanced at her children's faces. They were in shocked disbelief at what they had just heard. Rhett walked over, knelt down, and without a word took both of them in his arms. Without reservation, they threw their arms around his neck, sobbing brokenly, burying their faces against his chest.

"She's never...coming back?" Ella's tiny pinched voice was muffled.

"Auntie's gone to heaven to take care of Bonnie! Isn't that right, Uncle Rhett?" At Wade's brave pronouncement, a sorrowful shadow crossed Rhett's face. Scarlett felt an almost physical stab of pain in her side as she always did when she thought of Bonnie.

"Yes, that's just what I was going to say. Auntie has gone to heaven to take care of Bonnie. She'll take such good care of her, I'm certain of that." Rhett spoke with the apparent seriousness that he always did when he conversed with the children. Scarlett looked at Rhett in silent gratitude. What a wonderful father he was to Wade and Ella—how loving and caring he was to them. And how truly kind he was to step in and tell the children about Melanie—to do for her what she could not do herself.

"Auntie Melly will watch over you, too. She loved you both so much. We won't be able to see her, but that's what angels do—they take care of their loved ones here on earth. We are all going to have to be extra strong because Uncle Ashley and Beau are going to have a very hard time of it. Can you take care of Beau and look after him and be especially kind to him?" Through her own tears, Scarlett could see her children's heads nodding in mute assent to Rhett's request.

With painful regret, she thought about how Rhett had held her in his arms just a few short hours before when she had woken up in terror from her dreams. How could she ever have had eyes for anyone else? How could she have been married to him, lived alongside of him, borne his child, and still have been so blind to all of his best qualities? Ashamed, Scarlett's mind recalled the countless times that Rhett had helped her and rescued her throughout their long history without her ever once having even thanked him.

The children stayed in Rhett's arms for some time until they were summoned to the dining room. Rhett remained sitting on the floor of the nursery, rubbing muscles that had grown stiff during his prolonged embrace of the children. _He doesn't love you or care for you anymore_, Scarlett told herself severely. _She needed to always remember that_. But she did not forget her resolution to be honest with him. "Thank you, Rhett," she said, acknowledging for the first time in words her gratitude for all the kindnesses he had shown her throughout the years. "I just...couldn't find the words to tell them, but...thank you for always being such a good father to them."

"They deserve better than either of us, "Rhett said gruffly, "but I'll always do my best by them."


	6. Chapter 6

True to his word, Rhett promised to take care of certain arrangements for the funeral. Rhett's offer to help, as surprising and unexpected as it was, made her list of things to do decidedly more manageable, affording her the luxury of going to Melanie and Ashley's house for a few moments before embarking on cross-town errands. Scarlett drove the short distance to the Wilkes' residence with a grief-stricken Wade and Ella in tow. As they alighted from the carriage, Scarlett turned to her children. "Darlings, "she said, "this is so hard for you, I know, but Beau needs you. Take care of him, won't you? It will help him so much to have you here." Wade nodded mutely while Ella could only manage a sniffle.

The front door was slightly ajar, and Scarlett pushed it open with an unsteady hand. Stepping inside, she motioned to Wade and Ella to go and find Beau. India drifted into the corridor as silent as a ghost, and greeted Scarlett in a subdued voice as if there had never been any animosity or resentment between them. Scarlett responded in kind, removing her gloves. The house was ominously quiet despite the presence of the family. "Is Scarlett here?" she heard Aunt Pitty's quavering voice say. Scarlett knew she should go in and make her presence known, but she could not bring herself to face anyone just yet. Instead she slipped into the darkened parlor where Melanie's body lay in repose.

A few candles had been lit, and an unearthly deathly stillness pervaded the air. Scarlett came over to where Melanie's body lay. Her throat constricted painfully, and for a moment her legs felt too weak to bear her own weight. What little comfort she had derived from Melanie's visitation a few hours earlier had vanished entirely. A sob caught in her throat as she took the white handkerchief from her reticule and slipped it into Melanie's little hand.

"Here you go, Melly. Look, darling. I've embroidered your initials on it. Isn't it lovely?" Scarlett gently smoothed out Melanie's dress and brushed a stray hair off of Melanie's pale face. For a few moments, Scarlett gazed at Melanie in silence. Her heart was full, but she was at a loss as to what to say.

"I love you, Melanie Wilkes; I love you so much," she finally said, her voice breaking. You are the truest person I've ever known, the best friend and sister God could have ever blessed me with. I'm going to miss you so much. Darling, how am I going to get through life without you?"

Scarlett lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'm going to talk to Rhett in a few days. Oh Melly, he doesn't love me, but I will try...just like you said. And darling, don't you worry a thing about Ashley and Beau. I'll take care of them like my own. Goodnight, Melly." Scarlett leaned over and lightly kissed the cold pale cheek.

Scarlett squared her shoulders and took a deep breath as she left the parlor. There was much she needed to do to get the house in order before she left to run her errands. Assuming a business-like air that she was far from feeling, she briskly instructed servants who had been sent from her own home beforehand to decorate the doorways with black mourning wreaths and drape the windows in black and the outside of the house with black crepe. She sent a weeping Uncle Peter back to her house in the carriage to pick up baskets of food that the kitchen had been preparing. Bracing herself, she entered the sitting room and embraced a distraught Aunt Pitty whose plump little body shook with inconsolable sobs in Scarlett's arms. "Oh Scarlett, thank goodness you are here! Scarlett, what are we going to do...how will we go on now that...now that Melly is ..."

"Oh Auntie, I know—I know how hard this is. Please darling...Melly... Melly would want us to be strong for Ashley and little Beau. _Of course_ I want to stay right here with you too, but I have to leave to make a few arrangements. Just for a little while, darling, then I'll be back before you know it." With many such assurances, Scarlett gently extricated herself from Aunt Pitty's grasp and made her way to the front hall, unable to endure Aunt Pitty's laments one minute longer.

"Scarlett," a dazed voice half-whispered. Turning she saw the ghost-like figure of Ashley. She was horrified at the stunned unfocused look in his eyes. "He looks just like Pa did that dreadful night I came home to Tara!" she thought to herself. "Oh, will the same thing that happened to Pa happen to Ashley too?"

Without a word, she embraced him, and he wept brokenly in her arms. "Oh, Ashley, I'm so sorry," she murmured. "We all loved her so much...but darling, you need to be strong for Beau. What will it do to him to see you like this? Melly would want you to be brave. Please Ashley, pull yourself together. I can't bear to see you so...so..." Scarlett found herself at a complete loss for words, her own resolve starting to break.

"_I've got to get out of here...I've got to get out of here before I scream and go mad_," she thought to herself. "Ashley, darling, I've got to go and get things ready for...for the funeral. I know it's hard, but do try, for Auntie's sake and for little Beau..." Scarlett voice trailed off when she realized the extent of his incapacitation. She could not bring herself to say anymore. Instead she patted him gently on the arm as she would a child.

"Yes, Scarlett, yes, you're right," Ashley barely whispered, drawing a deep breath in an effort to compose himself.

"Darling, we'll get through this," Scarlett said. "You'll see...but Ashley, do please try!" He smiled wanly, bent down, and kissed Scarlett lightly on the cheek.

Scarlett stepped outside, feeling as if she couldn't get out of the house fast enough. "_What a difference a single night makes in a person's life_!" she thought to herself. Was it possible that for so many years, she had felt such longing and passion for Ashley; had her happiness really depended so much on him? Just yesterday, she had felt this way. But the course of a single night had changed everything, had overturned her world as she knew it. Today at this moment she felt nothing for him, nothing at all but pity and remorse. Melanie's death would surely break him, she thought grimly, and she was not sure that he would ever recover.


	7. Chapter 7

**The events from the night (chapters 1 and 2 of this story) from Rhett's point-of-view. Sorry i haven't updated in a while. Reviews are appreciated.**

Rhett made his way upstairs feeling wearier than he had ever felt in his life. It was finally over. He had told Scarlett everything. She knew now that he had loved her, had loved her to desperation for years. She had been the center of his world, had consumed every waking hour of his existence for the better part of a decade. He felt almost ill from the cathartic release of years of suppressed emotion, of tortured silence.

It was, admittedly, a wholly inappropriate time to disclose such revelations to Scarlett with Melanie having just breathed her last the hour before. Rhett would never have announced his desertion of the marriage at such an inopportune time had he not felt such a desperate urgency to make his escape for good within the hour. He had thought that he might feel some small satisfaction in knowing that he was finally free of her. But he did not feel satisfied in the least. He did not even feel free. No, he felt dull and leaden inside, cheerless as if he had done something dishonorable…something cowardly. He felt strangely unsettled, almost ashamed, if he were honest with himself.

Rhett lit a cigar and stared out the window into the black night with unseeing eyes. The decision to quit Atlanta and the prospect of starting over had afforded him more hope than he had felt in months. He had been debating with himself for some time about leaving, irritated that it had even been a question of debate. His younger self would have walked out without even a backwards glance. But the domesticity of the past few years had complicated his life, entailing obligations that tied him down to home and family far more than he realized. It was not such a simple matter to walk away from the commitments he had made.

The Peachtree mansion was the only real home he had known since his youth in Charleston. After years of wandering fancy-free, spending Christmases in seedy bar-rooms and hotel rooms, after all the thrill and danger of blockading during the war years, and the eight horrific months of fighting in the war itself, the very institutions of marriage and fatherhood had afforded him the first real measure of stability and constancy in his adult life. But now that he wanted to leave, he was finding that it was not so easy to walk away from a home and family of his own making.

He wished more than anything to leave Atlanta fancy-free. But he was _not_ fancy-free. He sighed heavily. Nothing in the world would change the fact that he had a wife and children and that he bore responsibility to them.

He had had many such arguments with himself in the days that Scarlett had been in Marietta. After the endless back-and-forth, he was _still_ not settled in his heart on the matter. He would resolve to leave, and then his conscience would accuse him of cowardice, of desertion. He could come up with no better plan than to tell Scarlett when she returned that he was leaving in the hope that stating his intention out loud in the actual hearing of another would reaffirm him in his resolve.

But he could not have anticipated the events of that fateful day. Word had come in the early morning that Melanie had suddenly taken ill. He had been obliged to call Scarlett home from Marietta at the urgent pleadings of the Wilkes family. Already on the verge of death by the time of Scarlett's panicked arrival, Melanie had passed away within a matter of hours. Rhett, world-weary and cynical as he was, felt his heart break at the news.

He had meant to apprise Scarlett of his plans to leave, again feeling reasonably sure that actually telling her would give him the impetus to do so. Yet the night had proved to be full of unexpected turns.

As prescient as Rhett was in all matters relating to Scarlett, he was not prepared for her reaction to Melanie's passing. Scarlett had been utterly, genuinely devastated by the loss. He could see it plainly in the abject misery in her eyes, the frozen lines of shock and grief etched on her pale face.

And as unexpected as Scarlett's reaction to Melanie's death had been, Rhett saw that something even more significant had happened to Scarlett during the course of the single hour that he had so unceremoniously dumped her at the Wilkes residence. Some revelation had caused Scarlett to realize that she did not love Ashley, had never really loved Ashley at all. _No, Scarlett had discovered that she loved and needed him, Rhett. Had loved him for years, she insisted, had loved him all along._ Scarlett had been hesitant about confessing her feelings at first, but once she had gotten over her initial discomfiture, she had freely admitted her foolishness, willingly assumed the blame for their estrangement, and wholeheartedly expressed her intent on making up for her neglect.

He did not quite know how to react to this sudden turn of events. His lips twisted at the perverse irony of the situation. Scarlett certainly did not need the man to tell her his feelings first before she disclosed hers. She had discovered her feelings for Rhett, and, like the child that she was, had run home to tell him the minute that she knew. He had witnessed that same forthrightness a lifetime ago in the elegant library of Twelve Oaks. "_Yes—a secret. I love you._" Even now he could hear Scarlett telling Ashley that she loved him, probably, he thought wryly, as soon as she possibly could after having realized it.

And now as then Scarlett lacked the imagination to conceive that any confession of love on her part would not be enormously gratifying to and instantly reciprocated by the man on the receiving end of it. But he commended her for her courage. It had taken him _years_ to tell Scarlett that he had loved her…but only when it no longer mattered. And only when it was no longer true.

Scarlett had borne the news of his leaving the marriage with a disconcerting calmness, though Rhett could see that she was heartbroken. Inwardly he was unsettled by her reaction. Despite a few tears and protestations, she had sat for the most part quite composed. Her head held high, Scarlett had met his eyes squarely as they carried on a civil conversation, probably one of the first in their marriage. His estimation for Scarlett had soared from this singular display of poise and restraint.

Rhett had meant to pack his things quickly that night but found himself overcome with some unnamed emotion, too despondent to make the necessary exertions. He could not help feeling sorry for all that Scarlett had lost in the span of that single hour and for his own responsibility in the matter. He had loved her for so long that he found himself wondering, almost from force of habit, how she would bear the grief, if she would ever recover. He felt troubled, almost betrayed by the sentiment.

Then he shrugged. He would _not_ allow himself to be tied down by any lingering sentiment with regard to Scarlett. For twelve years he had gambled everything on her, and he had lost. It was time to cut his losses and run. There was no point harboring bitterness toward her. The time for blame and recriminations was long past.

Rhett flicked his cigar ash idly. He wondered, despite her avowals to the contrary, whether she would turn to Ashley for comfort after a decorous waiting period. He didn't plan on being around to ever find out. He didn't think that he could bear watching Scarlett and Ashley get together with any good grace.

His eyes strayed to the note on his desk delivered in urgent haste by Cookie that morning.

_Captain Butler:_

_Mrs. Wilkes has taken very ill. Dr. Meade has advised us that the situation is extremely grave. She is pleading for Scarlett. We would be much obliged to you if you would wire Scarlett to come home from Marietta as soon as possible._

The script was scrawling and harried, blotted with ink splotches and dark smudges. The note reminded him once again that Melanie was gone. Rhett felt the weight of the loss, tried to imagine life without her gentle kindness and quiet goodness. He felt bereft. He was forever indebted to Melanie. He owed her his life. He knew with certainty that he could never have endured the horror of Bonnie's death and its aftermath without her.

In the midst of these thoughts, Scarlett had unexpectedly come into his room. He had been caught off guard by her sudden appearance but only momentarily so. What did it matter now what she said or did? Still he watched her with habitual guardedness as was his practice. She was utterly grief-stricken, her voice subdued and spiritless. She had asked whether he wouldn't stay for Melanie's funeral. Much as he wanted to leave, Rhett found himself agreeing to stay, such was his sense of gratitude and obligation to Melanie. He went so far as to offer to help with the funeral arrangements.

Scarlett had also asked that he tell Wade and Ella in person about his departure. Rhett winced at this request. The children. He had hardly so much as even looked in their direction since Bonnie had died, so consumed had he been with his own grief. He agreed to talk to them, feeling terrible that he had neglected them for so long.

Scarlett had then asked with some hesitancy if he would talk with her just one more time after the funeral was over. He had demurred at first. He did not think he could not bear to rehash the course of their marriage. It was too painful to think about. He did not look forward to the inevitable assigning or assuming of blame for various conflicts; he was not anxious to revisit his own failures, nor did he relish the prospect of Scarlett reinterpreting key moments in their life together either in the light of her newly-discovered love for him or of his past love for her.

Still Rhett found that he could not refuse her outright. As much as he needed to leave, he felt the need for closure to this chapter in his life if he were truly to make a permanent break. With much reluctance he assented to her request, inwardly cursing that he hadn't left Atlanta earlier. _Damn everything_, he thought. _I should have left when she was in Marietta_.

The demise of their marriage was an added misery to the infernal torment that had been his existence since Bonnie's death a few months before. Every waking moment had been consumed by an excruciating guilt and self-hatred. He was tortured by the merciless, accusing silence that pervaded the entire residence. At odd random moments the patter of Bonnie's tiny footsteps and the peals of her merry laughter would resonate throughout the cavernous house. He would be half-heartedly occupied with some task or more often than not in the throes of a drunken stupor when he would suddenly hear Bonnie calling for him, clear as a bell. Her high-pitched voice would cut through the silence and emptiness of the house with unmistakable clarity. "_Dad-dy!_" her voice would call out. "_Dad-dy_!" Disbelieving, his body trembling with the faintest hope, he would raise his head, desperately straining his ears to catch a further trace of her voice. "_Bonnie? Oh my darling Bonnie, is it really you_?" But always, invariably, the little voice would be swallowed up, drowned out by a resounding, mocking silence.

He decided at that moment that he could not stay, no matter what promises he had made to Scarlett, no matter what his obligations to Melanie were. He would pay all the expenses for as grand a funeral as Atlanta had ever seen, but he would save his life by getting out of the house that very night. He put out his cigar and resolutely made his way down the hall to Scarlett's room. He put his hand on the doorknob but paused momentarily. How would he put into words what he was about to do? What exactly would he say after having promised that he would stay for a few days?

His reverie was broken by the piercing sound of a terrified scream. Without thinking he burst into Scarlett's room and in the dim shadows found Scarlett sitting up, hugging her knees, sobbing brokenly. In his exhausted, overwrought state, in the semi-darkness of the room, he half mistook her for Bonnie. Swiftly he made his way to her bedside, took her in his arms and for several minutes held her close, soothing and comforting her as he would have his little girl. In witnessing such an honest outpouring of grief, Rhett felt his own throat beginning to constrict. In spite of himself, he was suddenly, unexpectedly overcome with a profound sadness for everything they had lost, so much so that if Scarlett had chanced to look up at that moment, she would have seen him as he really was, every vestige of his mask stripped away.

With a supreme effort Rhett took hold of himself, his face once more a smooth, inscrutable blank. He released her from his arms and settled her against her pillow. To her credit, she did nothing to entice him to stay.

He left her room as swiftly and silently as he had entered it, half-regretting that he had ever gone in. He did not want Scarlett to misunderstand the gesture. He sighed. Despite his bold avowals and his stated intention to leave, it was not so easy to emotionally extricate himself from a marriage even with the loss of feeling and affection. He was discovering that the marital ties that bound him and Scarlett together were far deeper than he had supposed. The dissolution of a marriage was not such an easy thing. It was not, he found, a mere walking-away from an individual; it was more an amputation of self.


End file.
